There’s nothing more powerful than holding your own in spaces where you’re not welcome. Walking into Soho House, the imposter syndrome hit hard, we rocked up wearing our usual attire (looking cool as ever whilst doing so) but amongst the Louboutins, bodycons and clutch bags we stuck out like a sore (and very poor) thumb, so much so that before reaching the roof to see DJ Daddy Skream we already had the nepo babies up in arms, one grassing us up for going to the toilets in twos (what a sad little life Jane).
Following a rant from the waitress they’d ran to who threatened to kick us out, we headed to the roof filled with satisfaction that we could trigger London’s ‘elite’ with our mere presence. As we entered the open air space with balls of light dangling above our heads we were welcomed by a cool breeze and the sounds of Skream, our ears pricked and all of a sudden we were in our element.
As much as we hate to say it the venue itself is a vibe *sigh*, once you realise how much fun it is being a fly on the wall, outside of the ‘better-than-you’ bubble most Soho House members live in, it’s honestly a blast. For anyone who hasn’t stepped into this alternate universe, by night, the house turns into a huge party, picture packed stairways and endless rooms to be discovered. Once we’d finished getting lost, lingering awkwardly for a ciggie (in what we assume was an outside bar?) and having a laugh with the staff (who are sound af by the way) we made our way through the densely packed crowd and to the front of the decks to do our favourite thing in the world, watch Skream work his magic.
The rest of the night is a bit of a blur, between murmers of “mate he’s so good” amongst ourselves and an overall buzz of “rah” in the air, we saw Skream’s set through ’til the very end and even stuck around for an hour or so afterwards, before descending back down the stairs (taking a few wrong turns along the way) and stepping out of the front door back into the real world.